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A PINDARIC ODE.

But when his painful gifts h' employs

And though, in worshipping of God, all blood In holding-forth, the virtue lies

Was by his own laws disallow'd, Not in the letter of the sense,

Poth hold no holy rites to be so good, But in the spiritual vehemence,

Ind both, to propagate the breed The power and dispensation of the voice,

Of their own saints, one way proceed; The zealous pangs and agonies,

For lust and rapes in war repair as fast, And heavenly turnings of the eyes;

As fury and destruction waste: The groans, with which he piously destroys Both equally allow all crimes, And drowns the nonsense in the noise;

As lawful means to propagate a sect; And grows so loud, as if he meant to force

For laws in war can be of no effect, And take-in Heaven by violence;

And licence does more good in gospel times. To fright the saints into salvation,

Hence 'tis that holy wars have ever been Or scare the Devil from temptation ;

The horrid'st scenes of blood and sin; Until he falls so low and hoarse,

For, when Religion does recede No kind of carnal sense

From her own nature, nothing but a breed Can be made out of what he means :

Of prodigies and hideous monsters can succeed.
But as the ancient Pagans were precise
To use no short-tail'd beast in sacrifice,
He still conforms to them, and has a care
T' allow the largest measure to his paltry ware.

UPON MODERN CRITICS.
The ancient churches, and the best,
By their own martyrs' blood increas'd ;
But he has found out a new way,

'Tis well that equal Heaven has plac'd To do it with the blood of those

Those joys above, that to reward That dare his church's growth oppose,

The just and virtuous are prepar'd, Or her imperious canons disobey;

Beyond their reach, until their pains are past; And strives to carry on the work,

Else men would rather venture to possess Like a true primitive reforming Turk,

By force, than earn their happiness; With holy rage and edifying war,

And only take the Devil's advice, More safe and powerful ways by far:

As Adam did, how soonest to be wise, For the Turk’s patriarch, Mahomet,

Though at th' expense of Paradise: Was the first great reformer, and the chief For, as some say, to fight is but a base Of th' ancient Christian belir,

Mechanic handy-work, and far below That mix'd it with new light, and cheat,

A generous spirit to undergo; With revelations, dreams, and visions,

So 'tis to take the paies to know: And apostolic superstitions,

Which some, with only confidence and face, To be held forth, and carry'd on by war;

More easily and ably do; And his successor was a presbyter,

For daring nonsense seldom fails to hit, With greater right than Haly or Abubeker. Like scatter'd shot, and pass with some for wit,

Who would not rather make himself a judge, For, as a Turk, that is to act some crime

And boldly usurp the chair, Against his prophet's holy law,

Than with dull industry and care Is wont to bid his soul withdraw,

Endure to study, think, and drudge, And leave his body for a time;

For that which he much sooner may advance So, when some horrid aetion is to be done,

With obstinate and pertinacious ignorance? Our Turkish proselyte puts on Another spirit, and lays by his own;

For all men challenge, though in spite And, when his over-heated brain

Of Nature and their stars, a right Turns giddy, like his brother Mussulman,

To censure, judge, and know, He 's judg'd inspir'd, and all his frenzies held Though she can only order who To be propbetic and reveald.

Shall be, and who shall ne'er be, wise:
The one believes all madmen to be saints,

Then why should those, whom she denies
Which th' other cries him down for and abhors, Her favour and good graces to,
And yet in madness all devotion plants,

Not strive to take opinion by surprise,
And where he differs most concurs ;

And ravish what it were in vain to woo? Both equally exact and just

For he that desperately assumes In perjury and breach.of trust;

The censure of all wits and arts, So like in all things, that one brother

Though without judgment, skill, and parts, Is but a counterpart of th' other;

Only to startle and amuse, And both unanimously damn

And mask his ignorance, (as Indians use
And hate (like two that play one game)

With gaudy-colour'd plumes
Each other for it, while they strive to do the same. Their homely nether-parts t' adorn)

Can never fail to captive some,
Both equally design to raise

That will submit to his oraculous doom, Their churches by the self-same ways;

And reverence what they ought to scorn;
With war and ruin to assert

Admire his sturdy confidence,
Their doctrine, and with fire and sword convert ; For solid judgment and deep sense:
To preach the gospel with a drum,

And credit purchas'd without pains or wit,
And for convincing overcome:

Like stolen pleasures, ought to be more sweet.

A PINDARIC ODE.

TO THE MEMORY OF DU-VAL.

217 Two self-admirers, that combine

And whips and spurs himself because he is outgone;
Against the world, may pass a fine

Makes idle characters and tales,
Upon all judgment, sense, and wit,

As counterfeil, unlike, and false,
And settle it as they think fit

As witches' pictures are, of wax and clay,
On one another, like the choice

To those whom they would in effigie slay.
Of Persian princes, by one horse's voice:

And, as the Devil, that has no shape of 's own,
For those fine pageants which soine raise,

Affects to put the ugliest on,
Of false and disproportion'd praise,

And leaves a stink behind him when he 's gone,
T enable whom they please t' appear

So he that 's worse than nothing strives t appear Aud pass for what they never were,

['th' likeness of a wolf or bear,
In private only being but nam'd,

To fright the weak; but when men dare
Their modesty must be asham'd,

Encounter with him, stinks and vanishes to air.
And not endure to hear,
And yet may be divulg'd and fam'd,
And own'd in public every where :
So vain some authors are to boast

TO THE HAPPY MEMORY OP
Their want of ingen;ity, and club
Their affidavit wits, to dub

THE MOST RENOWNED DU-VAL
Each other but a knight o' the Post,
As false as suborn'd perjurers,
That vouch away all right they have to their own
ears.

Tis true, to compliment the dead

Is as impertinent and vain,
But, when all other courses fail,

As 'twas of old to call them back again,
There is one easy artifice,

Or, like the Tartars, give them wives,
That seldom has been known to miss

With settlements for after-lives :
To cry all mankind down, and rail :

For all that can be done or said,
For he whom all men do contemn,

Though e'er so noble, great, and good,
May be allow'd to rail again at them,

By them is neither heard nor understood.
And in his own defence

All our fine sleights and tricks of art,
To outface reason, wit, and sense,

First to create, and then adore desert,
And all that makes against himself condemn; And those romances which we frame,
To snarl at all things, right or wrong,

To raise ourselves, not them, a name,
Like a mad dog that has a worm in 's tongue; In vain are stuft with ranting flatteries,
Reduce all knowledge back of good and evil, And such as, if they knew, they would despise.
To its first original, the Devil;

For, as those times the Golden Age we call,
And, like a fierce inquisitor of wit,

In which there was no gold in use at all; To spare no flesh that ever spoke or writ;

So we plant glory and renown Though to perform his task as dull,

Where it was ne'er deserv'd nor known, As if he had a toadstone in his scull,

But to worse purpose, many times, And could produce a greater stock

To flourish o'er nefarious crimes, Of maggots than a pastoral poet's flock.

And cheat the world, that never seems to mind

How good or bad men die, but what they leave The feeblest vermin can destroy

behind. As sure as stoutest beasts of prey, And, only with their eyes and breath,

And yet the brave Du-Val, whose name Infect and poison men to death;

Can never be worn out by Fame;
Bat that more impudent buffoon,

That liv'd and dy'd to leave behind
That makes it both his business and his sport A great example to mankind;
To rail at all, is but a drone,

That fell a public sacrifice,
That spends his sting on what he cannot hurt; From ruin to preserve those few,
Enjoys a kind of lechery in spite,

Who, though born false, may be made true,
Like o'ergrown sinners, that in whipping take delight; And teach the world to be more just and wise;
Invades the reputation of all those

Ought not, like vulgar ashes, rest That have, or have it not, to lose ;

Unmentioned in his silent chest, And, if he chance to make a difference,

Not for his own, but public interest. 'Tis always in the wrongest sense :

He, like a pious man, some years before As cooking gamesters never lay

The arrival of his fatal hour, Upon those hands that use fair play,

Made every day he had to live But venture all their bets

To his last minute a preparative ; Upon the slurs and cunning tricks of ablest cheats. Taught the wild Arabs on the road

To act in a more gentle mode: Nor does he vex himself much less

Take prizes more obligingly than those, Than all the world beside;

Who never had been bred filous ; Falls sick of other men's excess,

And how to hang in a more graceful fashion, Is humbled only at their pride,

Than e'er was known before to the dull English And wretched at their happiness;

nation. Revenges on himself the wrong Which his vain malice and loose tongue,

In France, the staple of new modes, To those that feel it not, have done,

Where garbs and miens are current goods ;

That serves the ruder northern nations

And oft had beat his quarters up, With methods of address and treat;

And routed him and all his troup. Prescribes new garnitures and fashions,

He took the dreadful lawyer's fees, And how to drink and how to eat

That in his own allow'd highway No out-of-fashion wine or meat;

Does feats of arms as great as his, To understand cravats and plumes,

And, when th' encounter in it, wins the day: And the most modish from the old perfumes ; Safe in his garrison, the court, To know the age and pedigrees

Where meaner criminals are sentenc'd for 't, Of points of Flanders or Venice;

To this stern foe he oft gave quarter, Cast their nativities, and, to a day,

But as the Scotchman did to a Tartar, Foretel how long they 'll hold, and when decay;

That he, in time to come, Taffect the purest negligences

Might in return from him receive his fatal doom. In gestures, gaits, and miens, And speak by repartee-rotines

He would have starv'd this mighty town,
Out of the most authentic of romances,

And brought its haughty spirit down ;
And to demonstrate, with substantial reason, Have cut it off from all relief,
What ribbands, all the year, are in or out of season: And, like a wise and valiant chief,

Made many a fierce assault
In this great academy of mankind

Upon all ammunition carts, He had his birth and education,

And those that bring up cheese, or malt, Where all men are so ingeniously inclin'd,

Or bacon, from remoter parts; They understand by imitation,

No convoy e'er so strong with food
Improve untanght, before they are aware,

Durst venture on the desperate road;
As if they suck'd their breeding from the air, He made th' undaunted waggoner obey,
That naturally does dispense

And the fierce biggler contribution pay;
To all a deep and solid confidence;

The savage butcher and stout drover A virtue of that precious use,

Durst not to him their feeble troops discover ; That he, whom bounteous Heaven endues

And, if he had but kept the field, But with a moderate share of it,

In time had made the city yield ; Can want no worth, abilities, or wit,

For great towns, like to crocodiles, are found In all the deep Hermetic arts

I'th' belly aptest to receive a mortal wound. (For so of late the learned call All tricks, if strange and mystical).

But when the fatal hour arriv'd He had improv'd his natural parts,

In which his stars began to frown, And with his magic rod could sound

And had in close cabals contriv'd Where hidden treasure might be found :

To pull him from his height of glory down, He, like a lord o' th' manor, seiz'd upon

And he, by numerous foes opprest, Whatever happen'd in his way,

Was in thenchanted dungeon cast, As lawful weft and stray,

Secur'd with mighty guards, And after, by the custom, kept it as his own. Lest he, by force or stratagem, From these first rudiments he grew

Might prove too cunning for their chains and them, To nobler feats, and try'd his force

And break through all their locks, and bolts, and

wards, Upon whole troops of foot and horse, Whom he as bravely did subdue;

Had both his legs by charms committed Declar'd all caravans, that go

To one another's charge,

That neither might be set at large, Upon the king's highway, the foe;

And all their fury and revenge outwitted. Made many desperate attacks l'pon itinerant brigades

As jewels of high value are Of all professions, ranks, and trades,

Kept under locks with greater care On carrier's loads, and pedlars' packs;

Than those of meaner rates, Made them lay down their arms, and yield,

So he was in stone walls, and chains, and iron grates. Anti, to the smallest piece, restore

Thither came ladies from all parts,
All that by cheating they had gain'd before,
And after plunder'd all the baggage of the field.

To offer up close prisoners their hearts;

Which he receiv'd as tribute due,
In every bold affair of war
He had the chief command, and led them on;

And made them yield up Love and Honour too, For no man is judg'd fit to have the care

But in more brave heroic ways Of others' lives, until he 'as made it known

Than e'er were practis'd yet in plays : How much he does despise and scorn his own.

For those two spiteful foes, who never meet

But full of hot contests and piques Whole provinces, 'twixt Sun and Sun,

About punctilios and mere tricks, Have by his conquering sword been won;

Did all their quarrels to his doom submit, And mighty sums of money laid,

And, far more generous and free, For ransom, upon every man,

In contemplation only of him did agree, And hostages deliver'd till 'twas paid.

Both fully satisfy'd; the one Th' excise and chimney-publican,

With those fresh laurels he had won, The Jew-forestaller and enhancer,

And all the brave renowned feats To him for all their crimes did answer.

He had perform'd in arms; He vanquish'd the most fierce and fell

The other with his person and his charms : Of all his foes, the constable ;

For, just as larks are catch'd in nets,

CONJECTURED

WHICH DELIBERATED ABOUT MAKING

By gazing on a piece of glass,

Wherefore 'twas thought good
So, while the ladies view'd his brighter eyes, To add Honeywood;
And smoother polish'd face,

But when they came to trial,
Their gentle hearts, alas! were taken by surprise. Each one prov'd a fool,

Yet three knaves in the whole,
Never did bold knight, to relieve

And that made up a pair-royal.
Distressed dames, such dreadful feats achieve,
As feeble damsels, for his sake,
Would have been proud to undertake;
And, bravely ambitious to redeem

A BALLAD IN TWO PARTS,
The world's loss and their own,
Strove who should have the honour to lay down

TO BE ON OLIVER CROMWELL.
And change a life with him;
But, finding all their hopes in vain

PART I.
To move his fixt determin'd fate,
Their life itself began to hate,

Draw near, good people all, draw near,
As if it were an infamy

And hearken to my ditty; To live when he was doom'd to die ;

A stranger thing Made loud appeals and moans,

Than this I sing
To less hard-hearted grates and stones;

Came never to this city.
Came, swell'd with sighs, and drown'd in tears,
To yield themselves his fellow-sufferers,

Had you but seen this monster,
And follow'd him, like prisoners of war,

You would not give a farthing Chain'd to the lofty wheels of his triumphaut car.

For the lions in the grate,

Nor the mountain-cat,
Nor the bears in Paris-garden.

You would defy the pageants
A BALLAD UPON THE PARLIAMENT, Are borne before the mayor ;

The strangest shape

You e'er did gape
OLIVER KING'.

Upon at Bart'lmy fair!
As close as a goose

His face is round and decent, Sat the parliament-house,

As is your dish or platter, To batch the royal gull;

On which there grows After much fiddle-faddle,

A thing like a nose, The egg proved addle,

But, indeed, it is no such matter. And Oliver came forth Nol.

On both sides of th' aforesaid Yet old queen Madge,

Are eyes, but they 're not matches, Though things do not fadge,

On which there are Will serve to be queen of a May-pole;

To be seen two fair Two princes of Wales,

And large well-grown mustaches. For Whitsun-ales,

Now this with admiration And her grace Maid-Marion Clay-pole.

Does all beholders strike, In a robe of cow-hide

That a beard should grow Sat yesty Pride,

Upon a thing's brow, With his dagger and his sling ;

Did ye ever see the like? He was the pertinent'st peer

He has no scull, 'tis well known Of all that were there,

To thousands of beholders ; T advise with such a king.

Nothing but a skin A great philosopher

Does keep his brains in Had a goose for his lover,

From running about his shoulders. That follow'd him day and night:

On both sides of his noddle If it be a true story,

Are straps o' th' very same leather; Or but an allegory,

Ears are imply'd, It may be both ways right.

But they ’re mere hide,

Or morsels of tripe, choose ye whether.
Strickland and his son,
Both cast into one,

Between these two extendeth
Were meant for a single baron;

A slit from ear to ear, But when they came to sit,

That every hour There was not wit

Gapes to devour Enough in them both to serve for one.

The sowce that grows so near.

'This ballad refers to the parliament, as it was he, out of fear of some republican zealots in his called, which deliberated about making Oliver party, refused to accept, and contented himself king, and petitioned him to accept the title; which with the power, under the name of Protector.

Beneath, a tuft of bristles,

And with her charms and ointments As rough as a frize jerkin;

She made him tame as a spaniel ; If it had been a beard,

For she usd to ride 'Twould have serv'd a herd

On his back astride, Of goats, that are of his near kin.

Nor did he do her any ill. Within, a set of grinders

But, to the admiration Most sharp and keen, corroding

Of all both far and near, Your iron and brass

He hath been shown As easy as

In every town, That you would do a pudding.

And eke in every shire. But the strangest thing of all is,

And now, at length, he's brought Upon his rump there groweth

Unto fair London city, A great long tail,

Where in Fleet-street That useth to trail

All those may see 't
Upon the ground as he goeth.

That will not believe my ditty.
God save the king and parliament,
And eke the prince's highness,

And quickly send
PART II.

The wars an end,

As here my song has-Finis.
This monster was begotten
Upon one of the witches,
B' an imp that came to her,

Like a man, to woo her,
With black doublet and breeches.

MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS
When he was whelp'd, for certain,

All men's intrigues and projects tend, In divers several countries

By several courses, to one end; The hogs and swine

To compass, by the properest shows, Did grunt and whine,

Whatever their designs propose ; And the ravens croak'd upon trees.

And that which owns the fairest pretext The winds did blow, the thunder

Is often found the indirect'st. And lightning loud did rumble;

Hence 'tis that hypocrites still paint The dogs did bowl,

Much fairer than the real saint, The hollow tree in th’owl

And knaves appear more just and true "Tis a good horse that ne'er stumbled.

Than honest men, that make less shew :

'The dullest idiots in disguise As soon as he was brought forth, At the midwife's throat he flew,

Appear more knowing than the wise; And threw the pap

Illiterate dunces, undiscern'd, Down in her lap;

Pass on the rabble for the learn'd; They say 'tis very true.

And cowards, that can damn and rant,

Pass muster for the valiant: And up the walls he clamber'd,

For he, that has but impudence, With nails most sharp and keen,

To all things has a just pretence, The prints whereof,

And, put among his wants but shame, l'th' boards and roof,

To all the world may lay his claim.
Are yet for to be seen.
And out o'th' top o'th' chimney

How various and innumerable
He vanish'd, seen of none;

Are those who live upon the rabble ! For they did wink,

'Tis they maintain the church and state, Yet by the stink

Employ the priest and magistrate; Knew which way he was gone.

Bear all the charge of government,

And pay the public fines and rent; The country round about there

Defray all taxes and excises, Became like to a wildern

And impositions of all prices; -ness; for the sight

Bear all th' expense of peace and war, Of him did fright

And pay the pulpit and the bar; Away men, women, and children.

Maintain all churches and religions, Long did he there continue,

And give their pastors exhibitions ;

And those who have the greatest flocks
And all those parts much harmed,
Till a wise-woman, which

Are primitive and orthodox;
Some call a white witch,

Support all schismatics and sects, Him into a hogsty charmed.

And pay them for tormenting texts;

Take all their doctrines off their hands, There, when she had him shut fast,

And pay them in good rents and lands; With brimstone and with nitre,

Discharge all costly offices, She sing'd the claws

The doctor's and the lawyer's fees, Of his left paws,

The hangman's wages, and the scores With tip of his tail, and bis right ear. ,

Of caterpillar bawds and whores;

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